


Second Knight

by Mossyrock



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: But as close as they can get, F/M, Fluff, Like they deserved to be, Missing Scene, Not quite declarations of love, Or they can be happy, can be canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 14:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossyrock/pseuds/Mossyrock
Summary: Brienne wakes up the day after the feast with Jaime in her bed and panics.Missing scenes from the show, showing how they fell into their routine of being together in Winterfell.Features an adorably awkward Jaime trying to seduce Brienne. Again.





	Second Knight

Brienne woke up, feeling incredibly warm and comfortable. She couldn't remember sleeping that soundly in years. She slowly made her way to consciousness, feeling no rush to break whatever spell she was under, happy to float to the surface gently.

She tried to stretch her aching muscles, but something was constricting her. A groan from beside her brought her to the present in an instant. Her eyes snapped open, so quickly she almost felt dizzy, and she turned to see Jaime asleep beside her, arms wrapped tightly around her body. Her heart was racing and all traces of sleep were gone, replaced by panic. She abruptly remembered she was naked, as was he.

He groaned again, rolling away and stretching as he went. She tried not to watch the pull of his muscles, too conscious now of their nudity. As tempting as it was to admire his body, he deserved his privacy, so she gave it.

She remembered last night vividly. She didn't tend to drink a lot, never having acquired the habit. But she'd had a few drinks last night, enough to make her relaxed and happy, yet still have her wits about her. The celebration had seemed to sink into everyone's bones. It had been so long since she'd seen anyone as happy as everyone had seemed last night. The night had seemed magical somehow. They'd survived against the odds. It was invigorating and everyone was living like they'd been gifted a new life.

Jaime had drunk a lot more than she had. He was far more accustomed to alcohol, but the way he'd turned up at her door, swaying and drink flushed, he seemed like a young boy, indulging for the first time. He'd clearly had way more than he should've. But she'd let him in and once she'd seen what his intentions were, she'd had the choice.

Either turn him away or let him clumsily seduce her.

She should have turned him down and let him sleep off the madness that had clearly overcome him. But she hadn't. She'd been just affected enough that she'd let him use that corny line, let him reach for her shirt strings and let him kiss her. From there, she'd been powerless. She couldn't have stopped either of them if she'd tried. She'd wanted it for too long to resist and whether he'd regret it in the morning or not, he hadn't seemed to care in that moment, so neither had she.

She'd been selfish. She'd wanted him for longer than she’d realised. She didn't know when it started, her desire and affection for him. But it had become a part of her. No matter what happened now, she loved him. And she only regretted last night in as much as she wished they'd both been clear minded, walking into it with no hesitation or alcohol clouding their minds.

But that was never going to happen.

She didn't know what to do. Should she wait for Jaime to wake up or leave now? If he regretted it, she didn't want to see the look on his face when he woke up in her bed and realised where he was and why. If she gave him time, they could compose themselves and he could let her down gently.

She slipped out of the bed, dressing quickly, glancing over every other second, checking to see Jaime was still asleep and not watching her. He'd seen her naked before. In the baths of Harrenhal and last night, when he'd stripped her down and looked at her as if she was beautiful. But in the cold, hard light of the dawn, with no alcohol blurring his sight or judgement, he would no doubt see how she really looked.

If they pretended it hadn't happened, maybe they could move on and get past it.

She put another log on the fire and with one more backwards glance, she left him sleeping peacefully.

 

* * *

 

Brienne spent the day helping Sansa, tending to the wounded and cleaning up the castle, planning for the rebuilding.

When the dead fell, it felt like the struggle was over. That's what they had celebrated last night, the triumph of winning an unwinnable war. But now that the fallen had been mourned and the living had rejoiced, the realities of what lay ahead had come crashing down.

Everyone was daunted at the tasks that lay before them. Winterfell, and other parts of the North, had been completely destroyed in places. And the troops were going to have to march South soon, to take Kings Landing. There was no break from destruction.

She saw Tyrion and Jon being run ragged by Daenerys all day, planning for the war to come. Every available set of hands were recruited to help the injured or to help around the castle in one capacity or another.

Brienne was aching all over, from the war and from last night. She didn't know she had more muscles to ache, but parts of her she never knew existed before had been awakened. It was a good ache though, like the ache of a good workout or a fair and even fight.

Jaime had been gentle, even though he had seemed so out of control. He'd seemed overcome by desire and it had been intoxicating. More than any alcohol could've ever been for Brienne.

She tried not to think about it, throwing herself into helping Sansa as much as she could.

She didn't see Jaime again until dinner. She and Pod were eating, when Tyrion plopped himself down beside Pod with a sigh of relief.

"Good evening Ser Brienne, Pod," He nodded at them as he sat and took a deep drink of wine.

"Lord Tyrion," She replied.

Pod wasn't paying any attention to them, too distracted by the serving girls across the room. It seemed that herself and Jaime weren't the only ones who woke up with someone else in their room that morning. She was happy for him but didn't want to think too much about her squire and any of the young girls. He was almost like a son to her, though their age difference was not so large.

A few seconds of silence passed, when Tyrion leaned over towards her.

"Ser, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night," Tyrion was speaking low, voice barely carrying past Pod.

She blushed and wanted to tell him that she wasn't offended, having heard far worse in her life, but as she glanced away from him embarrassed, she saw Jaime enter the hall.

Tyrion noticed her blush and followed her gaze to see his brother.

"I'm glad it all worked out though.” He smirked.

Brienne wanted to argue, try to convince him that nothing had happened between herself and Jaime, but Jaime was carefully making his way over to the table and sat in the same spot as last night.

His foot bumped hers under the table and she squirmed in her seat but didn't remove it.

"Tyrion, Pod, Brienne" He nodded at them each in turn. His eyes met hers and held for a few seconds. A small, almost shy smile graced his face and Brienne dropped her eyes to her food.

A few seconds later, a plate was placed in front of Jaime, along with a new jug of wine, deposited by one of the women Pod had been making eyes at from across the crowded room. She didn't take her eyes off Pod as she delivered the meal and gave him a flirtatious grin.

Jaime poured himself a drink, before going to pour one for Brienne. She placed her hand over the top of her cup.

He looked at her in askance.

"You aren't drinking tonight?"

"No. Not tonight," She replied. His face fell somewhat, eyes dimming as they drifted away from her. “I’ve never been much of a drinker…”

He shrugged and began eating, looking anywhere but at her.

She wasn't sure what to say. Or how to act. He wasn't avoiding her. That was a good sign. But he seemed to be back to being the polite and distant Jaime she'd known before the battle, when he'd asked sincerely for permission to fight with her.

He was treading carefully around her, and she found she missed the sarcastic and taunting Jaime that she'd known first as her prisoner and again last night, when he'd toyed with her over Tyrion's game. The same man who'd teased her for possibly allowing Tormund to grow on her, before kissing her and giving her the second of the most unexpected and wonderful moments of her life thus far.

The first was when he knighted her, fulfilling her dreams and validating her choice to forgo tradition to pursue what she really wanted.

He'd changed her life. He'd changed her. He made her better, giving her the tools to fulfill her oaths.

But he also made her more human. She had always strived to be perfect. But seeing him, with all his shades of grey, she knew perfect didn't exist.

Last night had seemed too perfect to be true.

"Will you require anything else tonight, Ser?" Pod asked, eyes still on the dark-haired girl who was now making her way out of the hall, glancing back at him not so subtly on the way.

"Not tonight, Pod," She smiled at him reassuringly, "You may go. Enjoy your night."

He was up and out of the hall faster than she had ever seen him move on the training grounds.

Tyrion snorted.

"That boy has no experience, no charisma, yet he manages to charm all the ladies. I'll never understand it. Pod and his magic cock." He shook his head and took another healthy swig from his cup.

Silence descended upon them again as Brienne pushed the food around her plate.

"Ser Brienne, how fares the clean-up efforts?"

Brienne had to admire Tyrion's tenacity. A lesser man would have noticed the tension and run away. Tyrion seemed determined to make conversation, regardless of whether either Brienne or Jaime cared to join him.

“Winterfell is far from repaired, but Lady Sansa and I are happy with how the efforts are progressing.”

“Wonderful. And the soldiers, are they all healing?”

“I’m no maester, but they all seem to be improving. They aren’t all up to fighting again, but most are significantly better. You had better ask Samwell if you want to know.”

“That’s good to hear, isn’t it, Jaime?” Tyrion looked to his brother, who was sullenly picking at the unidentified meat on his plate.

“Yes, indeed.”

Tyrion looked as if he expected Jaime to expand on his comment, but when he grabbed his wine and started drinking like a man dying of thirst, Tyrion gave up.

“Good luck,” He whispered to Brienne as he stood up to leave.

Brienne panicked, as she and Jaime were left alone. They weren’t alone, as the room was quite full and the general hubbub meant it wasn’t as awkward as it could have been, but between them, there was silence. Brienne glanced around the room, looking for anything of interest, but everyone seemed to be in their own worlds.

“How are you feeling?” Jaime finally spoke. Brienne looked over to see him watching her. She got the feeling he’d been watching her since she looked away. It made her feel overly warm and she felt herself blushing again.

“I’m good. A bit tired, but that’s to be expected,” She gave him a small, rueful smile.

“You did just fight an entire army of the dead. And you haven’t been getting much sleep.”

The allusion to last night, no matter how obscure, still had her heart beating heavily in her chest.

“It’s hard to sleep with everything going on around here. I’m hoping I can get some decent sleep tonight.”

Jaime was still watching her, but this time she let herself watch him too. His eyes flickered over her face. She tried to keep her face neutral.

He looked so handsome in the candlelight. His beard and the new streaks of silver in it suited him. He wasn’t the groomed golden lion anymore and Brienne found she preferred him like this. It seemed so much rawer and honest than the clean-shaven man she’d known in Kings Landing.

She knew he was the same man, no matter what he looked like, but they seemed so different, like he was playing different roles. Were either of them the real Jaime?

“How about you? Are you feeling well?” She asked.

“I’m feeling wonderful, despite being nearly killed by a legion of dead people. I’m surprised I’m still alive at all.” He smiled crookedly at her. But his eyes were serious. It hit her that he really didn’t think he was going to live.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a good fighter, of course you were going to survive.” She brushed it off. She couldn’t dare contemplate that thought seriously.

“I’m not the fighter I used to be,” He waved his prosthetic hand around, dangerously close to the cups and candles on the table “You saved my hide a few times.”

“You saved me too,” She said, grabbing his golden hand and lowering his arm to the table, lest he knock anything over.

“Brienne.” His voice rumbled as he spoke her name softly. She realised she was still holding his hand and pulled away, grimacing.

“I think I might head to bed. It’s getting late and we have a lot to do tomorrow. Good night, Ser Jaime.”

“Good night, Ser Brienne.”

She turned and left the hall quickly, leaving him behind. Again.

 

* * *

 

She wasn’t one to run from a fight, but she was one to run when things got too emotionally fraught. She holed herself up in her chambers, trying to calm her racing heart. Holding his hand, looking at him sitting there with her like he wanted to be there, realising that he thought he was going to die, she realised she couldn’t imagine a world without him now.

When they’d met, she’d hated him. But they had been through so much and they had saved each other so many times that she couldn’t untangle their lives now. Since she’d dragged him around the continent on a leash, they had become… Something. Not exactly friends. But far more than acquaintances. She didn’t know what to call them. She just knew that whatever they were, they cared about each other. Even if he didn’t feel the same for her as she did for him, she knew he cared.

As selfish and cruel as he had been when they met, he had lost a hand defending her. He’d jumped into a bear pit, one handed, unarmed and exhausted. She didn’t imagine there were many he would do that for. And they’d come a long way since then. The way he’d behaved at Riverrun had confused her. He’d listened to her, sparing their lives, when he could’ve easily taken it with force and killed everyone inside. But he hadn’t.

He’d given her armour, a sword, a squire. He’d outfitted her like he would a real knight. It was clear that he’d long ago accepted and respected her as a fellow fighter.

But last night, he’d also accepted her as a woman. No one had ever done that before. The way it made her feel was indescribable.

She was tending the fire, staring into the flames, lost in thought, when a knock sounded on the door. Her heart started racing again and she knew before she opened the door that it was him.

He stood there, steadier on his feet than the night before, but he still held two cups and a flagon of wine. He grinned at her and she laughed her loud barking laugh as he pushed past her into the room.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh like that before.” He placed the cups on the table and poured the wine into the cups to almost overflowing. He pushed one into her shaking hands, which she accepted, just for something to hold, to ground her.

“I don’t tend to laugh much. I’ve been told it ‘isn’t ladylike’.” She still felt the sting of every insult, even as she brushed them off. ‘Like a mule’, one charming young lady said once. Ever since then, Brienne had been careful not to let herself laugh freely.

“Not ladylike, my arse. You’re a Lady. You’re the heir of Tarth. That’s more than a lot of ‘ladies’ could ever say.” His eyes reflected the fire and she took a sip of the wine, just for something to do.

“What are you doing here, Ser?”

“Why are we back to ‘ser’? I thought we were past that?” He took off his jacket again. It felt too surreal that last night was repeating.

“Jaime, why?” She asked. Now she was feeling the heat of the room and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Because you weren’t drinking, and you looked like someone had stolen your favourite toy. We’re alive, you should be celebrating.”

“I am celebrating. I don’t need to drink to celebrate.” 

He was watching her again as he stepped closer. Measuring her words, trying to discern any lie.

“You don’t need to get me drunk, Jaime,” She whispered. She didn’t know if he would hear it over the crackle and pop of the fire and the yelling and noise from outside.

It was the closest she could bring herself to admitting that she wanted him without putting her feelings in jeopardy.

He walked forward until he was as close as he’d been last night, just before he’d started to take his shirt off.

“Brienne,” He took a deep breath, seemingly unsure of what to say, “I’m not good at this.”

Whether by ‘this’ he meant seducing her, talking about feelings, expressing how he felt or having feelings at all, she wasn’t sure. It could mean any of a million things, but somehow, she knew what he meant.

“I know,” She reached out to grab his drink, placing both their cups back on the table, “It’s alright. We don’t need to think about it. Or talk about it.”

The relief lit up his face and he leaned in to kiss her. Unlike their kiss last night, this one was slow and exploratory, testing themselves and each other.

“Is this really happening?” She asked when they pulled apart.

He was smiling at her, carefree and breathless.

“I'm here as long as you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally wrote this. Oops. 
> 
> I have a habit of wondering how they got from one scene to another in the show (see my other fic Guest of Winterfell for backup of this claim). Remember when the show showed everything in excruciating detail and we didn't have to guess things? Those were the days. 
> 
> This can either follow canon, or we can abandon canon, like Jaime abandoned Cersei, and live in a world were Jaime is redeemed and they live happily ever after. I know which one I prefer. 
> 
> Just in case they read this (which is never going to happen, but oh well): Screw you, D&D. At this point, even GRRM will have to pry these two from my cold dead hands. 
> 
> Barely edited, so let me know if there's any mistakes.


End file.
